From Big Oil to Big Poo, from cold Canadian winters to humid Texas nights - a Plucky Canadian girl gets plunked into the sweltering heart of Tejas.

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Monday, February 25, 2019

Bringing Big-Picture Love to Small-Picture Life

My kids go to a mommy’s day out program twice a week (when
they’re not contagious). So like once a month, I pile us into the van and I
drop them at this place that loves kids, everyone’s kids, and takes such good
care of them and it feels wonderful and relaxing.

Then I either drive around like a crazy person running
errands all day, or I drive home and I write, or clean, or eat. Alright I
ALWAYS eat.

All the stuff I don’t want to share or can never seem to
finish while warm with two babies in the house. Ahhh, the steam rising from my
tea mug and the butter melting into the blueberry muffins and the sharp tang of
fresh blueberries with a sprinkle of cinnamon? Oh, heaven, there you are.

And then you know what I do? I hang onto my phone and obsess
over the pictures they send me of the kids and I marvel at their perfection, at
their beautiful, sweet faces and I am amazed I get to be the one who calls them
mom. I am so, so lucky and I can feel all the love, a tidal wave of love, crash
over me so intensely I finally, finally understand how a mom can lift a car
when her child is in danger. What could I not do with this love coursing
through me like an overflowing river raging through my heart?

What if I could hold onto that feeling while they’re pulling
out each other’s hair over who gets to play with the blue bouncy ball they
found under the couch, covered in dog fur and dust?

Well, this is my goal as a mom. Bringing my big-picture love
into my small-picture every-day life.

How to do that? Asks every mom, ever, throughout all of time
past and future.

I start by letting go of my need to reach this goal. Because
being a loving parent starts with knowing it isn’t about perfection. It’s about
finding my own space and peace first, getting myself in this aligned state of
big-picture love. Everything else flows from that.

I need a little solitude to get into that grateful-love
space where I feel I’m the best ‘mom’ I can be, and once I let go of the inner
critic that says I shouldn’t need it, I feel great. I feel open and free and
ready to be the kind of mom I want to be.

A mom who makes her children feel like they are really seen
and understood, and loved so much they could never, ever doubt their own intrinsic
value. And I want them to feel that every day, for as long as I am alive and after that too, eh?